


Running Roughshod

by JustaMinuet



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustaMinuet/pseuds/JustaMinuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brie Bella was used to being mean to people. Not so used to having kindness returned in favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

_Author's Note:_ Yeah, own nothing. Making no profit. Using kayfabe entirely. Hope you enjoy my odd taste in pairings. Be grateful it's not the Ted Dibiase/AJ Lee story I was thinking of... That'll probably happen, anyway.

 **Running Roughshod  
**   
_First Impressions_   
**  
**

**First Meeting**

If Brie Bella were to be honest with herself (and truth be told, the only people in the world Brie was always honest with were herself and Nikki), she'd admit that she'd noticed him before. Well, maybe noticed wasn't the proper word for it. When you were in the back, you _noticed_ Randy Orton. You _noticed_ John Cena. You _noticed_ CM Punk, and Christian, and even Sheamus. They were men with larger than life personalities. Men that turned heads, demanded respect, and got crowds going whenever they stepped into the ring.

One didn't necessarily notice Evan Bourne. You'd maybe catch him out of the corner of your eye, something in the back of your mind would click that you possibly had seen him some place else, and then you'd just as quickly dismiss his existence.

At least, that's how it was for Brie. So, on the day her carry on suitcase's left wheel broke as she was trying to meet up with Nikki after a show, Brie didn't think she could be blamed for not recognizing the rather forgettable wrestler when he walked up beside her.

He didn't even look at her when he did it, from what she recalled. Just picked up the suitcase she had been struggling with a moment earlier, pleasantly said, "I've got this," and walked with her to the back of the building. All with a serene smile plastered on his face.

She'd tried getting her suitcase back, really. Most of the men in the locker room treated her and Nikki in one of two ways; they either couldn't stand their attitudes -because, as Nikki once said, heaven forbid any of the _women_ be cocky- or circled around them hoping they were easy.

The Bella twins did not choose, "You Can Look, But You Can't Touch" as their theme song for irony's sake.

"I can carry that," she'd snapped, hoping that her tone and deep frown would give him a hint that she really wasn't interested. _Go away, hoser._

"Yeah, I know," he'd shrugged, the dopey smile never leaving his boy next door face. "But, I can carry it easier. And it's no problem."

"Really," Brie had grabbed for the handle, "I've got it."

He'd simply pulled it out of her reach with a laugh. "Just let me do it. Hasn't anyone ever done something nice for you just to be nice before?"

It'd been a rhetorical question. Brie hadn't taken it that way. "No."

That answer had caused Evan to freeze for a moment, his smile vanished. "Well, that's a shame."

She hadn't known what angered her more; his words, or the fact that his tone somehow managed to sound sincere.

Brie'd turned to him to snap out something bitter, but they were already outside, Nikki in their car, blaring the horn at her. Witty retort dead on her tongue, Brie had simply clawed her luggage away, and stormed off to meet her sister.

She'd expected him to be offended by the lack of thanks. It would take a week for her to learn that Evan was good at the unexpected.

 **Oops!**

Brie was pretty sure she had better things to do with her sister, than listen to a raging Jack Swagger as they waited for the commercial break to end, and their entrance music to cue up. She didn't really know what had happened in the match before, but she was fairly certain it had ended poorly for Swagger, and it most likely involved Evan Bourne. Neither she nor Nikki really cared what a couple of scrubs not worth their times were feuding over, but even Brie had to admit there was something endlessly amusing about seeing a man Swagger's size storm about like a child having a hissy fit.

It was getting to be a habit the past couple of weeks. Swagger or Bourne would have a match, something would happen that would somehow involve the other man, Bourne would leave or stay in the ring triumphant, and Swagger would have a tantrum. Bets were already going to see how long it would take for Swagger to really snap and cause Bourne some damage. As quick and apparently clever as the high flyer was, he was still only 5'10" to Swagger's 6'7". If the former champion got his hands on him with the idea in mind of just having a street fight, it was pretty apparent that Bourne wouldn't have much of a chance.

Even after their divas match was over, Swagger was still stalking the back hallways, clearly looking for the young man that had steadily become a thorn in his side. Brie just rolled her eyes at it all. Men in the business were so quick to fly off the handle sometimes.

She didn't really know how she'd managed to spot him. She and Nikki were heading into the women's locker room to change, when she caught something familiar from the corner of her eye. Or someone.

Slowly, Brie turned her head to a bunch of sound equipment by the wall. Wedged between the wall and electronics, Evan sat rather comfortably on the floor, his thumbs tapping away on his cell phone. Maybe feeling eyes on him he looked up, spotted her, and waved with a bright smile. Brie frowned in return. Was he hiding, or was that just his strange way of relaxing? Brie didn't really understand men like him, who always seemed so easy going and nice. In her experience, it was all a lie. No one was that good-hearted, especially not a man. They all had ulterior motives, and it was just a matter of time before his real personality came out. She had half a mind to point him out, just because his very presence irritated her. But then Swagger yelled something rather violent from down the hall, and Bourne raised his eyebrows practically to his hairline, lips in a tight lined smile, expression screaming, _Wow, I really pissed him off, huh?_

Despite herself, Brie laughed. Then covered her mouth and glared, when Evan grinned at her response. She put her hand down, and hoped she looked effectively annoyed at him. From his lopsided smile, she doubted it. So, Brie opted to roll her eyes for the second time that day, before walking through the locker room door.

 **My Name Is...**

Bella Bootcamp was much more fun when there was more than one Bella involved. Of course, this couldn't happen when Nikki was sick in bed with food poisoning (otherwise known for its more popular but less dignified title, a hangover). Still, Brie didn't so much mind the early morning run by herself, especially since the weather had gotten nicer.

Out of all their training, Brie actually enjoyed jogging the most. On a treadmill in a gym, she could blast her iPod and tune out every annoying person in the room. Which, if fellow superstars and divas were present, were quite a few. And if the weather permitted an outside run, Brie would completely lose track of time watching the scenery pass by. The upside to traveling all the time meant that she never got bored of her current locale.

She would've preferred to jog outside this day, since the sun was shining along with a cool breeze, but Bellas stuck together. So, if one twin was stuck in the hotel, the other was, too. Brie opted to use the hotel gym, which wasn't so bad even with its slightly outdated equipment, since most of the occupants were coworkers that she ignored on a daily basis anyway (Santino, who?). Her cellphone rested precariously on the panel of the treadmill she was using, just in case Nikki called in need of something.

Ear plugs securely on, and music ramped as high as it could go without causing permanent damage, Brie blocked out everyone, focusing on what her week would entail. Photoshoots, at least one meet and greet, not to mention what seemed like the hundredth match between her and Kelly Kelly. Quite frankly, she was sick of facing off against the bubbly blonde. There was just so much sugary happiness radiating off of a human being one could take without wanting to punch them in the face, even if they weren't in the ring at the time. Hmmm, punching Kelly in the face? Brie mulled over the thought. She hadn't done that before, and for the life of her, couldn't think of why. Clearly, this was something that needed to be rectified come RAW. She bet _that_ wasn't something the little princess would be expecting.

With the thought of whacking the taste out of Kelly Kelly's mouth as motivation, Brie cranked the treadmill to a higher speed. However, the new velocity made the older machine shake a bit, jostling her cellphone off its perch. Brie clumsily reached for it, but couldn't maneuver herself very well on the still moving belt to get to it in time, and watched with dread as her phone plummeted to what looked like an early death.

Except it never met its untimely fate. Instead, it was snatched out of the air mere inches away from the ground, its savior holding it out to Brie with a friendly grin on his face. Most of the women on the Divas roster would've been grateful and gushed accordingly, no doubt. Brie wasn't most women. And Evan Bourne's smile still pissed her off.

She took back her phone without returning his overly enthusiastic smile. "Thanks," she muttered, cold as the Arctic.

Per usual, Evan either didn't seem to care, or didn't seem to notice. "No problem. You should be more careful, though. It could've broke."

Brie gave him a flat look, deciding that he wasn't even worth a response. Again, he didn't seem to be bothered by her attitude. He leaned his arms on the treadmill's panel, head tilted. Brie equated it to a curious kitten. She idly wondered for a moment how many girls were dumb enough to fall for it, then just as quickly decided she didn't care. Instead, she glared harder.

This did nothing to dampen Evan's cheerfulness. "Say, think you'll be done with the treadmill soon? The other one here's kinda broke."

Brie's frown didn't let up. "You can always run outside."

"I could," he shrugged. "But it's really hot out."

He pouted. A kicked kitten, Brie thought.

"And I should care, why?" she asked.

"Heatstroke is bad," he quickly answered with such a serious face, that Brie actually found herself taken aback. Then, she felt rather embarrassed when he grinned impishly. "Come on," he laughed. "You can't be on that thing forever."

"I'll tell you what," she leaned in, brows drawn down. "I'll get off if you tell me which Bella I am."

It was a trick, and everyone who overheard the conversation knew it. There was, naturally, a fifty/fifty chance of getting the right answer. However, since it was a Bella twin, she would never, ever admit that the person guessed correctly. And it was impossible to call them on their bluff, outside of tackling them and looking for Brie's telltale tattoo. It was a game that both Nikki and Brie had played on people multiple times, and everyone on the roster knew that whenever they pulled it, the outcome was always the same.

Evan didn't seem deterred in the least. He narrowed his eyes, and scratched his chin in an exaggerated look of deep thought. It was all Brie could do not to sigh irritated in his face. He was really just too ridiculous. Finally he straightened up, looking rather pleased with himself. She couldn't imagine why.

"Well, you're the prettier of the two," he said, once again leaning on the treadmill. "So, you've gotta be Brie. Right?"

Her mouth fell open, dumbstruck. In Brie's defense, her expression was one that was mirrored by just about everyone in the room. Those who weren't in shock had looks of near admiration on their faces. It was such a childishly simple way to answer the riddle, that Brie realized she shouldn't be surprised that a guy like Evan would come up with it. But it was also infuriatingly effective. Did she admit that he was right, or take a shot to her ego just to win? She could feel all eyes on her, and she never wanted to smack a smile off a man's mouth so much before in her life.

She huffed, and stormed off the treadmill. "Whatever."

 **So Close**

Brie Bella didn't give much credit to the intelligence of people in large groups. Especially when those people happened to be WWE fans. Or more specifically, WWE fans who owned cell phones. They were the reason she had been thrown into yet another match with Kelly Kelly. Only this time for her Divas championship. And it was because of them they she didn't have it anymore.

Seriously, the fans couldn't have chosen Eve or Beth? Sure, Beth could probably bench press Brie on her worst day half asleep, but Brie was pretty certain that she was much smarter than the resident Glamazon, and Twin Magic would've been an easy way to get around the other woman's abnormal strength. As for Eve... Well, she was Eve. If Brie could beat her once, she could beat her twice.

In the end, Brie had _had_ the match won, anyway. She had Kelly in a perfect pin. Well, almost perfect. Who knew she'd actually be able to roll into a counter pin? One little slip in balance, and that was the end of that. It didn't seem right. Besides, Kelly Kelly had the devil's luck on her side. Brie didn't think the girl was capable of stringing two sentences together without getting confused, and here she was getting title shot after title shot. It was unnatural. Who in the back booked these matches, anyway? Lawler?

It didn't help matters that Nikki had blamed the loss on Brie, instead of Kelly. In the back of her head, Brie knew that it was more out of frustration than real anger, but it still wasn't something she wanted to deal with. Twins were supposed to support each other, not point the finger. The two women had bickered back and forth at each other all the way to the back, until Brie had snapped that she wanted to be by herself, which Nikki had replied to bitterly how more than happy she was to comply.

Brie had done her best to ignore everything else that was going on around her, quite content in her sulking and self pity. She didn't even notice someone else take up residency on the equipment box she was sitting on, until her ears picked up a small groan to her right. Her head whipped to the side, surprised and annoyed that she'd been unaware of the person's presence. Her annoyance worsened when she recognized Evan Bourne, rubbing his back and wincing.

"Do you really have to sit here?" she bit.

Like clockwork, he ignored her rudeness. "Closest place to sit down," he answered, hands still kneading his hunched over back.

"Well," Brie raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back, "you look like Hell."

"Figures," he grimaced. "I'm assuming that's where Mason Ryan was attempting to slam me at the end there."

For once, the look of pity on her face was unfeigned. "They voted for Mason Ryan? His left leg weighs more than you do!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Evan muttered. "But it wasn't exactly the match I was expecting. Or wanting."

That made Brie think about her own match, which in turn brought back her indignation. "Yes, well, at least _you_ didn't just lose your title belt to a no talent ditz!"

"No, I didn't. After all, I've never been given a shot at a belt here."

His tone took her aback. Usually, Evan sounded sweet and happy. In his worst mood she'd ever seen him in, he'd been mildly annoyed. But the way he'd said those words just then was unlike any way Brie had heard him speak before. He sounded angry, and bitter. And very much not like Evan.

Brie found she didn't like it, at all.

They fell into a moment of uncomfortable silence, with Evan still trying to get the kinks out of his back and shoulders, and Brie at an unusual loss for words.

Finally, when she just couldn't take it anymore, Brie declared, "Losing sucks!"

Evan looked at her, and laughed despite himself, a hint of his normal smile on his face. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

She nodded, folding her hands in her lap, and watched people on the roster go by.

Brie really didn't know what possessed her to do what she did then, but she blamed it later on depression, and the old adage of misery loving company. With a sigh, she tilted herself to the side, resting her head on Evan's shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and placed his own head on top of hers. They stayed like that, a united front of sore losers, until Nikki had come looking for Brie to apologize. The former Divas champ had jumped away so quickly from Evan when she heard her sister coming, he'd nearly fallen over. She didn't apologize for it. He didn't care.

 **Questions**

The Bella twins had gotten a rather infamous reputation for being two of the biggest bar flies in the WWE. A rep that neither woman thought was very truthful. They didn't really go out _that_ often. It was just when they did, they went full tilt. If you were going out partying, what was the sense of not having a good time? And it really wasn't Brie or Nikki's fault that they could somehow drink most of the male roster under the table. It wasn't like they were hooking up with strange men every time they went out. Or ever, to be more specific. The Bellas were far too picky to do something so crass. Not that the women's locker room seemed to worry about facts when it came to some of it's roster.

But neither Brie or Nikki particularly cared about what anyone else thought of them. They were going to have fun when they could, and if some of the other Divas wanted to be boring, judgmental stick in the muds, they could do it. The Bellas had better things to do than fret over misconceptions and false rumors.

They were passing through New York for shows during the week, and there was no way the Bella twins _weren't_ going to go out. New York City had some of the best bars. With Nikki somewhere on the dance floor, Brie was nursing the last of her apple martini over at their table, contemplating on ordering another. Her lip twitched a little when a familiar figure sat next to her.

"Am I allowed to order you a drink?" Evan asked. Brie noted his own hands were empty of any glass.

"I don't know," she replied, sarcasm thick. "Are you even old enough to?"

He flashed his perfect, boyish smile. "What do you want?"

"Ah, what a loaded question," Brie murmured, running her finger along the edge of her martini glass. "But, I suppose you meant what I would like to drink?"

"Well, yes," he tilted his head, grin fading just a bit. "Unless you'd like to answer it a different way."

She raised her brows. "That's a dangerous game you're playing there, Mr. Bourne."

His smile came back, full force. "Oh. I was beginning to wonder if you knew my name."

"Of course, I do," she scoffed. "You're the scrub Nikki cheered for at Capitol Punishment."

Not surprisingly, his smile didn't diminish. "Is the person who won the match really the scrub?"

"When it comes to you?" she sipped the last of her drink, then frowned at the empty glass. "Yes."

"Glad I'm special." He took the glass from her hands. "Another?"

Brie eyed him, curious and challenging. "... I want a Jolly Rancher."

He got up, and took only a few steps before turning back. "Not gonna follow me?"

"For what reason?" she asked. "You're not going to spike my drink. You're too much of a boy scout."

Evan shrugged and grinned, completely unapologetic over the accusation. Brie watched him go with a cocked brow, not quite sure why she felt like humoring him. Must've been because of the alcohol. It certainly wasn't because maybe, just maybe, she was getting used to his constant presence in her life, wanted or not.

When he came back and handed Brie her drink, she took it without thanks. For what seemed like the millionth time, Evan didn't seem to notice or care about the lack of manners. She was beginning to wonder what that was all about.

"You're not going to soften me up by getting me drunk, you know?" she murmured, taking a sip of the dark green liquor.

He laughed. "I'd probably get drunk before you anyway, right?"

"Not without ever buying a drink, you won't," she snorted.

"I'm not much of a drinker," he shrugged. "Suggestions?"

"Do you dare ask me, and potentially have me order you the most froufrou drink I can think of?" she challenged.

Evan eyed her then, and she couldn't miss the amusement on his face. "Bring it, oh mighty former champion."

"Oh," she put her glass down, standing up, "you're in for it now."

She walked purposefully over to the bar, ignoring the large grin that had flashed on Evan as she left. This was silly, she realized. He'd just gotten up to get her a drink just a few moments ago. He could've bought himself one. Besides, what was she doing, rising to his bait so easily? She knew better than that. And it wasn't like she was starting to enjoy his company. Certainly not! Perfect, clean cut, boys next door absolutely bored her to tears. And that made Evan the epitome of boring.

Still, she found herself ordering his drink, and paying for it without the irritation that she thought she should have.

When she walked back to him, she placed the glass on the table, eyes gleaming. "A Long Island Iced Tea, Mr. Bourne?"

His perpetual grin faded. "That's not a 'froufrou' drink."

Brie smirked. "Can't handle it?"

He chuckled under his breath. It was an unexpected reaction, and Brie was both surprised at it, and the fact that it actually sounded pleasant to her ears. He brought the drink closer to him, and took a swig. "I can handle it fine," he said.

She sat back down. "We'll see."

Two hours later, their collective drink list had gone on to include a second Long Island Iced Tea, this time for Brie, two watermelon margaritas, one for each of them, and finally a Jack and Coke, and a Piece of Ass Cocktail for Evan. Evan had tried very hard to refuse the last one, but Brie had proven to be not only insistent but convincing in her pleas. Something about it being an aptly named drink for him. They were both quite sure that it was all the alcohol talking at the end there, but neither of them seemed to mind it much. By the time Nikki had come to retrieve Brie, and Yoshi Tatsu Evan, the high flier was regaling Brie with stories from his time in Ring of Honor. While she, arms draped around him and flushed face resting on his shoulder, told Evan tales of how difficult it was for her and Nikki to be more interested in football and soccer than boys all during school.

Nikki and Yoshi couldn't figure out what was more absurd; Evan and Brie's level of drunkenness, or just who the two parties involved were.


	2. Flowers

_Author's Note:_ Yeah, own nothing. Making no profit. Using kayfabe entirely. Written before this year's Money in the Bank PPV, so forgive the "incorrect" title holders. Hope you enjoy my odd taste in pairings. Reviews are always appreciated. Still planning that Ted Dibiase/AJ Lee story. Yeah, it's gonna happen.

**Running Roughshod  
** _Flowers  
_   


It started with a single flower. One daisy, to be precise. Directly handed to her, without a word or any other fanfare.

Brie had, of course, glared and yelled at his retreating back. She still wasn't interested. And daisies were cheap. What sort of woman did he take her for?

The next RAW, it was two daisies. Delivered still without a word, though a slight smile graced Evan's face when she frowned and muttered, "Are you serious?"

He simply walked away, even as she threatened to throw his gift back at him. Ultimately, she didn't go through with her threat.

Without surprise, the following week she was gifted with three daisies. This time, with a little pink bow to tie them together. She probably would've yelled at him again, had he not done his little drop off in front of most of the Divas roster. They had all watched the exchange with unveiled interest, and when Evan had left, she found herself the sudden center of attention. Some looked at her with surprise, and others with disgust. But they _all_ looked curious.

Brie clutched the flowers, feeling both possessive and defensive. She couldn't quite understand the former feeling. "Mind your own business!"

Four daises were her prize a week later, and she hissed at him to not do this anymore in front of her coworkers. Didn't he know he was embarrassing her? His response was a shrug and a smile, as he waved to the Divas who stood behind her, all of whom waved back; either genuinely happy to see him or gleeful at Brie's discomfort. Flustered, she nearly crushed the fragile stems in her grip. Later on that night, she spent the time to carefully cut them above the damage points before putting them in a vase.

Five weeks in, and five daisies in her hands. This time given to her away from prying eyes, but still without words. She, fed up with the silence, demanded that Evan speak. If he was trying to woo her, the very least he could do was talk. But he seemed determined to keep mum, a finger to his lips his only response.

Her bouquet of six daisies was nearly thrown back into his face. She was not going to deal with his silent treatment anymore, and if he believed she thought it charming, he had another thing coming.

"I don't know what I find more annoying: You not talking, and you yourself," she snapped. Furious, she shook the white flowers in front of him. "What is wrong with you? Say something, you idiot!"

He frowned then, that kicked kitten face that Brie had tagged weeks ago. She thought that maybe he would finally say something, that he'd give in to her demands. Instead, he reached out and grasped her hand that held the arrangement. The contact surprised her into her own silence, and she felt both voice and _breath_ leave her when his lips touched the back of her hand. She was still dumbstruck (and mildly dizzy) when he left.

The gift of seven daisies was accepted with a sigh, but even she had to admit it was awfully half-hearted.

Eight daisies in, and even the Superstar roster was beginning to take note. "I am not dating him!" she practically snarled at John Cena, who threw up his hands in mock surrender.

Still glaring at the champion, she felt a tug on her bouquet. She turned to see Alberto Del Rio attempting to pull a flower out.

"Then, you don't mind if I take one," he said. "I give one to Maryse. Pretty ladies like pretty flowers."

He didn't get a chance to actually get a daisy out of its pink ribbon. With a rageful grunt, she backhanded him across the face. "Well, _this_ pretty lady was given _these_ pretty flowers!" she cried, bouquet held close to her chest. "Get your own, you cheap bastard!"

Del Rio was too stunned at what she had done to respond for a few moments. When he finally got a hold of himself, Brie had already begun to storm away. If he was planning to go after her, the thought died immediately upon hearing Cena murmur in a very calm and dangerous tone, "Don't even try it."

Nine daisies tied in a white and pink ribbon were placed in her hands the following week, shortly after Evan had had a match. He was sweaty and breathing hard, and smelled like everyone who had landed on the ring mat for the night. He also had a small cut over his left eye, but none of that seemed to stop his ever present smile. Brie herself was already dressed for a night out, including three inch heels that probably would've made other women's ankles hurt just by looking at them, and a purse that glittered so much it could've been strung up and used as a disco ball. Gussied up as she was, she was more than a little repulsed by his appearance and aroma.

She rolled her eyes, nose scrunched up. "You wreak. You couldn't at least have handed these to me _before_ you went out there and got disgusting?"

He shrugged, unapologetic.

Her eyes went to the ceiling once more. "Honestly, you're like a little kid. I'm surprised you didn't go play in the mud first. You don't really think you're impressing me, do you?"

He shrugged again, this time tilting his head with a quizzical expression.

Brie huffed. "Such a child."

She glared at him hard, but that didn't seem to bother him in the least. Her glare wavered a bit, her lips thinning in thought. With a sigh, she reached into her purse, and pulled out a tissue. Taking a step forward, she pressed it above his eye where he was cut. He hissed slightly at the contact, wincing from the sting.

"Sorry," she murmured, offhanded. "They have lotion." When he looked at her with surprise at her apology, Brie snapped, "You shouldn't be going around bleeding, anyway! Moron."

She didn't miss his laugh as she walked away.

The tenth week came, and Brie expected Evan to ambush her at the most inopportune time as possible to offer her her weekly present. Instead, two hours of RAW came and went without a single sign of the wrestler or a flower. At first, she was confused, then anxious. By the end of the night she felt disappointed, almost sad. Which then quickly turned to aggravation at her own behavior, and then straight to blaming Evan for causing it all.

With a determined stride, Brie made her way over to the men's locker room, banging on the door. Alex Riley opened it, only to nearly shut it closed in surprise upon seeing a woman there. She jammed her foot into the doorway before he could.

"Give me Bourne," she punctuated each word like they were their own separate sentences.

Alex appeared to contemplate the demand, and her mood darkened even more than it already was. She didn't have time for this.

"You bring him out, or I go in," she threatened. "And don't think I won't do it, Riley."

That seemed to give him a jolt, and whether he truly believed her or not, it didn't look like Alex was prepared to take any chances and potentially get flack from his fellow Superstars for allowing a woman to walk into the men's locker room. He closed the door, and a few moments later it opened, Evan being all but shoved out, the door slamming closed behind him. Frowning at the shut door for a second, Evan turned to the fuming Bella twin.

"Well?" she placed her hands on her hips.

To his credit, instead of being intimidated by the furious woman, Evan simply looked innocently confused. This only made her angrier.

"Don't play dumb with me," Brie snapped. "Answer my question!"

His confused face didn't falter. "What question is that?" he asked, finally speaking to her after weeks.

She was startled at how nice it sounded to her. She then crushed that notion with her aggravation. "You know full well."

"I do?"

His feigned naïveté was insufferable to her. "Yes, you do!" She held her hand out. "Where are my flowers?"

He looked at her outstretched hand, then back to her. "Oh. Flowers. Is that it? I thought you didn't like them."

"That's not the point," she bit.

"It isn't?" Evan laughed, scratching the back of his head. "I thought given a girl something she didn't want was counterproductive."

"That didn't seem to matter to you for weeks," she retorted, arms akimbo.

"I changed my mind," he said.

Brie couldn't help but feel insulted. "You changed your mind? You've been giving me flowers nonstop for nine weeks, and you just _changed your mind_ about me?"

He gave her a small shrug. "Maybe. Why should it matter? Unless," he raised a brow, "you've changed your mind about _me._ "

She stopped cold for only a second, then glowered and turned her head away.

His smile finally faded. "Well, if that's the case, g'night."

He turned around to go back into the locker room, only to have Brie grab onto the handle before he could.

"Did you really change your mind about me?" she asked behind him, anger gone.

"What does it matter?"

"Just answer the question," she pushed, frustrated.

He sighed. "Maybe. Possibly. Probably not."

Her grip remained on the handle for a few more seconds before she loosened it, fingers sliding off and arm swinging away. "Good," she said. Lightly, she kneed him in the back of his leg. "I expect my flowers next week, Bourne. And there better be eleven. Don't think I'll let it slide just because you missed a week."

She couldn't see his face, but the amusement in his tone was clear. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I'll give you an even dozen if it can be over dinner."

Brie wanted to turn him down. Wanted to laugh in his face. Wanted to crush that little boy dream he apparently had about her. Or at least, she thought she wanted to. But maybe she didn't. Not really, because instead her lips formed a smile despite herself, and a laugh bubbled up from her throat. And not the obnoxious, mocking laugh she was so used to doing; it was something much happier, almost a giggle. She shook her head, unable to stop or identify the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

"Fine. Whatever," she said, turning away.

"I'm going to hold you to that," he called to her, as she was halfway down the hall.

Brie didn't realize that she hadn't managed to get the smile off her face, until she ran into Nikki, and her sister asked her what had put her in such a good mood.


	3. I Always Play Women I Would Date

_Author's Note:_ Yeah, own nothing. Making no profit. Using kayfabe entirely. Hope you enjoy my odd taste in pairings. Reviews are always appreciated.

 

 **Young**

Bouquet in her lap, Brie had to admit that Evan was good to his word. A dozen daisies banded together with a pink ribbon. Prior to being picked up, she'd wondered if maybe he'd step up his game and come with roses, but dusting her fingers over the flawless white petals gave Brie a newfound appreciation for the flowers. They weren't the most expensive, or even the prettiest, but there was something infinitely charming and genuine about them. They reminded her a little (very, very little, she assured herself) of Evan himself.

Caught in her reverie, she hadn't bothered to ask Evan exactly where they were going. Brie couldn't really come up with anything that might be a given when it came to the young man driving. Maybe he'd just take her to dinner and a movie. Standard. Safe. Boring. But as she thought that, she heard the calliope's whistling notes, before her eyes caught sight of the bright lights and spinning colors in the distance. He was taking her to a carnival.

Her mouth slipped open, venomous words forming in her mind, but failing to slip on her tongue, past her teeth.

Brie Bella, the former Divas Champion, and thorn in the side of many of her coworkers, scoffed at the idea. _A carnival? Like they were children? The manchild next to her couldn't get any more immature, or clueless._

Brie Bella, the former high school soccer player, and girlier of the two twins, was practically bouncing in her seat. _She hadn't been to a carnival in years. She needed rides, cotton candy, and games. In that order. STAT._

But no, she wasn't going to freak out over this, in any way. She was going to play this off indifferently. She was only doing this to humor Evan, she reminded herself. After all, she'd pretty much promised him a date, and she didn't really enjoy being called a liar. And Evan wasn't that bad to spend time with, she supposed, even if she thought he could be way too cheerful at times. So, she was going to go about this so-called date being politely apathetic, until the whole ridiculous night was over. There was no reason to do otherwise.

And she kept this line of thought going with military focus, up until Evan opened her door, helped her out and asked, "What do you want to do first?"

Coolly, Brie didn't bother to look at her companion, keeping her eyes ahead of her to maintain her aloof persona. This proved to be her downfall, as her vision spotted what lay twenty feet away from them. Her original flat reply of, "Whatever, " got erased, and immediately replaced with an almost gleeful, "Roller coaster!"

She took off without warning, and it was all Evan could do to catch up to her. He laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the right and away from her destination.

When she verbalized her unhappiness at this, his grin widened. "We need tickets, you know. The only one here who'd give you a free ride is me."

And the world around them just seemed to stop in one, horribly embarrassing moment.

"I mean," Evan stuttered, face an interesting shade of dark pink, "you know. A carnival ride. Like, on the roller coaster. You know. Like that one. That one over there." He stood there, pointing dumbly and looking miserable.

And Brie knew she could just bring it on home and make him want to set himself on fire through the power of pure humiliation. Really, Evan was such an easy target. He wasn't like any other man that was in the WWE; not like any man she'd ever met, period. He opened his mouth, and it was all sunshine and rainbows. He smiled, and it was like puppies and kittens. It was little wonder most of the Divas would fawn over such displays. But Brie was not like most Divas, and she thought such an innocent streak had to be an exaggeration, if not an outright lie. At least, she kept telling herself that, but the more she spent time with Evan the more she began to wonder if he may genuinely be that kind. It was a concept she couldn't quite wrap her brain around. Men were not kind. Men were never kind. Not to her.

Still, she decided to show mercy. It wouldn't help either of them to start a date with her tearing him down. With a smirk, she spun him around and gave him a light shove.

"Get the tickets, Bourne," she demanded.

He seemed grateful that she wasn't going to press the issue, and wordlessly made his way over to the ticket booth. Brie watched him go, her eyes settling on his backside against her will. She scolded herself for a moment, then decided that there was no shame in it. She wasn't admiring _Evan_ , so much as his body. And she had to admit, he had a nice ass. When he returned to hand her a ticket, his face was still flush and he was finding it difficult to make eye contact. She reluctantly found it endearing. Wordless, she bumped her shoulder against his as she passed him, heading toward the roller coaster. He followed quickly after.

While she would admit it to anyone, not even Nikki, Brie felt a trill of excitement she hadn't in a long time as she and Evan were strapped into their seat in the old coaster. It was juvenile and silly, and she would never usually let anyone see her in such a state --twittering her fingers anxiously along the safety bar, biting her bottom lip and yet still smiling-- but she figured with Evan it was okay. She tried to reason that she knew Evan wouldn't tell because he was trying to impress her. Brie did her best to ignore the thought in her head that, really, Evan wouldn't tell because Evan didn't care if she wasn't composed all the time.

She also hoped Evan wouldn't tell anyone just how she screamed the entire ride. Or how she then practically pulled him off it so they could rush over to the swing ride next. It took little convincing on Evan's part to then get Brie on the pirate ship, where they placed a bet to see who would grab onto the safety handles first. Much to Brie's chagrin, she lost. She punished Evan laughing at her by dragging him over to the carousel. She scoffed at him bemoaning that every single wooden horse was adorned with flowers or ribbons. Her smirk faded when he took her hand, and tugged himself and her onto an ornate bench.

The seat's glossy paint gave it no traction, and Brie found herself sliding right up against Evan. If he had a problem with this, or even noticed it, he was good enough to not say anything, allowing Brie to quietly put a little bit of space between them. She regretted it slightly right after. It was cool for a summer evening, and Evan was like a human furnace. A human furnace that happened to smell really nice.

A few rides and a trip to the cotton candy vendor later, and Brie was eyeing the various game booths. They were always fun, but nine times out of ten just weren't worth the money. Brie felt they were all rigged, or very much close to it. She'd initially been eager to give them ago, but now that the evening was winding down, she wasn't quite sure she was willing to blow money on something that she knew she couldn't win at.

Evan seemed in a much more positive mood. He pointed to a booth, "I can do this."

Brie couldn't help but roll her eyes when she looked. The ping pong ball booth. "No one can do that."

The ping pong ball booth was a game that, as far as Brie was concerned, was rigged without actually being rigged. Shallow cups spinning slowly in water, with the object to get a ping pong ball to rest in one. Of course, since ping pong balls bounced high with barely a flick, it was nigh impossible to ever win at such a booth. Only a gullible fool would think they could.

Brie found herself unsurprised that Evan was among them.

"Don't waste your money," she muttered.

"I'm not wasting it," he assured her, handing a five dollar bill to the vendor. "I told you, I can do this one."

She didn't really believe him, and she sighed her disapproval. That didn't seem to deter Evan much, as he picked up one of the five ping pong balls he was given. He watched the cups spinning for a few moments, before letting it go. Brie watched it bounce predictably off a couple cups, before splashing into the water. She hoped her frown would resonate with Evan, but he paid it no mind. If anything, he found her cynicism amusing, a smile on his face as he picked up his next ball. This time, he held it at a different angle, and lobbed it with a light spin. To Brie's surprise, the initial ricochet when it hit the first cup was much softer, and the ping pong ball landed neatly into the second one it fell to. And stayed.

The carnie looked impressed. Brie _was_ impressed. Evan just pointed to a large stuffed bear and said, "That'll do."

As they walked away, prize in her hands, Brie couldn't help but ask, "How did you do that?"

Evan grinned. "We had carnivals every year where I grew up. Doesn't take much to learn the tricks to win at those."

The ride back to the hotel was spent mostly with them talking about other carnivals they'd been to before, small adventures they had during the summer times of their youths. Moments with long forgotten friends, and some they still had in their lives. Glimpses of memories that they hadn't shared in a long while.

He walked her to the door of the room she and Nikki were sharing, and Brie, flowers and bear in hand, waited to see just how Evan would try to finesse himself a kiss. All her first dates did eventually, and she found it a little annoying. She wasn't such a prude that she disapproved of kissing on the first date; what she didn't like was that every man always acted as if they deserved one. Like she should be grateful they took time out of their busy schedules to take her on a date, and she better repay them for it.

Evan titled his head down, and she held her breath for the inevitable. Instead, he took hold of her free hand, and held it to his lips. Brushing a breaze-like kiss across her knuckles, he wished her a good night with a small smile, and left her to herself.

Brie stood there, confused. She'd never had a man do that before, and didn't quite know what to make of it. At least until a small, budding feeling of warmth spread its way from her chest outward, and a tingle of a grin graced her face.

Oh, she wondered. Was that how it felt to be treated like a lady?

 **Choice**

A week later, Evan and Kofi Kingston had claimed gold together as the new Tag Team Champions. And Brie, along with the rest of the locker room, had thought Evan was going to celebrate with Kofi and the rest at the local bar. Instead, Evan had kept his previous engagement with Brie, promising he'd go out with the others on Tuesday. When Brie had asked him why he had done that, Evan seemed surprised.

"Why would I break my promise with you?" he'd asked back.

And it was as simple to him as that. And throughout the date (which consisted of a museum Brie had heard about, and all but begged Evan to come with her to), he seemed perfectly content to not talk at all about his win. No bragging or boasting. Evan looked pleased just listening to Brie ramble on about brush strokes or carving techniques. Things that clearly were going over his head, but since they interested her, he did his best to pay attention.

Halfway through one of the art exhibits, she mentioned, "You look a little lost."

"Oh, it's not a little," he admitted. "I'm totally lost."

Brie huffed, and turned to him. "You don't want to be here, do you?"

"Of course, I do," he shook his head.

"Really?" she scoffed. "You want to be stuck in the middle of a museum with a bunch of paintings and sculptures you don't get, instead of partying with your buddies at a bar?"

"Yup," he nodded.

She raised a manicured brow. "Why?"

"Because you're here."

And again, simple as that.

So, he stayed, and let Brie continue to point out certain pieces, and talk in length about their history that he would most likely forget before the night was over. Through it all, he nodded and _hmm'd_ at all the right moments, and even made sure to lean in with interest when Brie was talking with added enthusiasm over a certain painting. With any other man, Brie would've found his behavior somewhat patronizing. But with Evan, she knew that he really was doing his best to involve himself.

At the end of the night, he'd brought her to her door, and like he had on their first date, placed a simple kiss on the back of her hand. She could've let him go like that, and he would've been perfectly content, she knew. Brie however, didn't think she'd be quite that okay. It felt more like instinct than thought process, as Brie took hold of his shirt, pulling him toward her. It probably was, she decided as her lips pressed against his. Because really, she had told herself a long time ago that guys like Evan were trouble. They were either liars hiding behind a facade, or naive idiots waiting to be taken advantage of. Either way, not the type of man she should be interested in.

Certainly not the type of man that she would ever run her fingers through his hair, her other hand gripping his shoulder as he returned her kiss with more passion than she expected. Evan was not the type of man that would ever elicit a moan from her, as his arms pressed her to him. And he definitely wasn't the type to ever make her feel like her legs momentarily ceased to exist, as he held her up purely on his own strength, his mouth and tongue practically making her dizzy.

And yet she realized, as she finally pulled away for air, he was exactly that type of man.

If anyone seemed more surprised at that fact, it was Evan himself. "Why?" he asked, the question slipping past his reddened lips before he could stop it.

She blinked a few times, then shrugged. "Because you won the Tag Team titles tonight," she answered. "I thought you deserved a reward."

He frowned. "Oh," he said, looking disappointed, a little upset.

"And also," she added, pink tainting her cheeks, "I may have wanted to." With a quick movement, she brushed her lips against his again. "A lot."

And really, it was as simple as that.


End file.
